Page 156 of Sexting the Boss

So I walk inside.

And the door shuts quietly behind me. Like a chapter closing.

Like goodbye.

26

DAMIEN

The hospital smells like bleach,blood, and artificial lemon.

I hate it.

Oleg’s in the bed, tubes in his arm, bruises up his side, a thick white bandage across his midsection. He’s pale, but alive.

Barely.

Roman stands at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, silent as I step in.

“You’re late,” Oleg rasps, barely able to turn his head.

I drag a chair beside him and sit. “You look like shit.”

“Good,” he grunts. “That means I’m still prettier than you.”

Roman huffs a breath through his nose. I crack half a smile.

But it doesn’t stay.

Because underneath the dry humor, there’s guilt curling like smoke in my chest. It sits there, low and heavy.

This happened because of me.

Lev was aiming for me. He always was. But Oleg took the hit.

And it could’ve been worse.

It could’ve been Sasha.

The thought lands like a punch.

I rub a hand over my face and lean back in the chair. “Security outside your room’s been doubled,” I say. “You’ll be fine here.”

Oleg shifts, groaning. “You didn’t have to send me here. I’ve had worse.”

“You bled through my car seats.”

“Only a little.”

I almost laugh. Almost.

He looks at me, then squints. “You look worse than I feel.”

I don’t answer.

Because while he’s been lying in this bed, I dropped Sasha off at her apartment like she was baggage I couldn’t carry anymore. Like she wasn’t the only bright thing in weeks of darkness.

She thinks I used her. I know she does.

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